


you're my favorite thing

by spookyscully



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, btw there are mentions of scars in the first paragraph!, for the fitzsimmons valentine's day exchange!, just a small warning, this is so late and i feel awful, written for the wonderful ifwehadamonkey on tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-22 17:31:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6088345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyscully/pseuds/spookyscully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hey, I came back to you, didn’t I?” </p><p>She huffs out a laugh coated with a mixture of relief and gratitude, and rests her head on his chest. He can feel his shirt beginning to become wet, and so Fitz pulls her frame closer to his. </p><p>“Yes. Yes you did.”</p><p><b><i>or,</i></b> jemma, grateful that he has returned safely, suprises fitz with some flowers, chocolates, and a nice dinner. set after the mid-season finale, and written for ifwehadamonkey on tumblr!</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're my favorite thing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ifwehadamonkey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifwehadamonkey/gifts).



> this was written for the fitzsimmons secret valentine exchange on tumblr! i was to write for ifwehadamonkey, with the prompt: 
> 
> **Jemma surprises Fitz with some traditional wooing: flowers,chocolates, the whole shabang; post 3a finale, canon compliant.**
> 
> i hope you enjoy the fic, lovely.

She takes him apart with careful hands, brushing her latex-covered fingers over his face continuously and feeling the scars that litter his body. He’s coated in them, the scars, and he thinks that not only does she know what he’s been through, but anyone else could, as well. Just by looking at his bloody and battered body, a story forms. Each scar detailing a new, more terrifying part.

“I’m fine, Jemma. Really,” he insists after thirty minutes pass. The clock seems to move much more slowly as of late, and if her fingers brush over his cheek one more time he will surely combust. Jemma sighs and purses her lips, humming a sound of disapproval before responding.

“You’re not fine,” she tells him. He lets her because it’s the truth. “No one could be fine after that.” And he knows that she knows, so he allows her to dissect him for a little longer without complaint. 

She grins once she finishes, but he can see that it is quite forced. Her eyes are red and, he’s certain that with only little prodding, she’d be crying if not for her need to examine him thoroughly. “There,” she proclaims, and gives him a small pat on his shoulder. “All done, Fitz.” 

But her medical side has gone away now, disappeared into an array of traumatic memories and the fearful present. Fitz can tell that she is about to cry, so he stands and places a hand on her waist. “Hey, I came back to you, didn’t I?” 

She huffs out a laugh coated with a mixture of relief and gratitude, and rests her head on his chest. He can feel his shirt beginning to become wet, and so Fitz pulls her frame closer to his. 

“Yes. Yes you did.” 

\---- 

The next day is a calmer one, as no one is really willing to discuss the events that occurred. Not yet, anyway. Fitz figures they just need a little more time to process everything and then things will go back to normal. Well, as normal as it can get while doing what they do.

“Hello,” Jemma greets Fitz in the lab that afternoon. He’s not working, not really, and he welcomes the lovely distraction from his own torturous mind. 

“Hey, Jemma.” He smiles. She is carrying a certain light with her today, a kind that Fitz has not had the pleasure of glimpsing in quite a long time. He hopes that it will remain, at least for a little while. 

“Come here.” Is all Jemma says before reaching her hand out. It takes Fitz a minute before he notices that he is meant to take it, and only a millisecond after his realization before he does. He never needs prompting, he thinks to himself. Not when it comes to her. 

She leads him through narrow hallways and crooked paths, before finally stopping in front of a large gray door. “In here,” she tells him, opening the door. He follows. He always will. 

Once they enter the dimly lit room, Fitz gasps softly. Inside is nothing but a table, complete with two chairs and a single candle in the center of it. Food wrapped in foil lay on top of the table, and Fitz thinks he sees a bouquet of flowers behind one of the chairs. He’s not completely certain, however. His mind has been playing tricks on him lately. A little sound here, a little vision there. None of them actually are present, of course. Present in nowhere but his own mind. 

“What-what’s this?” Fitz asks tentatively, taking in the scenery before him with wonder and amazement. Jemma blushes. 

“It’s for you.” She tells him, and then corrects herself. “For us.” She then takes a few steps so that she is standing behind a chair, and reaches over to pick up something from the floor. “I got this for you as well,” she states, and hands the items to him. So, Fitz thinks, taking the flowers and chocolate graciously, I wasn’t imagining things after all. 

“Jemma,” he breathes, holding the flowers closer to his face and smelling them. They are lilies, and his smile widens when he registers this. He recalls the lilies that littered the ground outside of the academy, all of the days that were spent studying under a tree, admiring the lilies and counting each and every one. “How many do you assume there are?” He has once asked her, his books thrown aside for the day. She peered over at him from behind her Chemistry textbook, and closed it after glancing properly at the beautiful flowers herself. 

“Oh, there must be hundreds,” she hypothesized, and suddenly their beauty had entranced her. Fitz was entranced as well, but by a beauty of complete difference yet stunningly similar. “Maybe even thousands.” 

“Subtract one from that,” Fitz had said, and then proceeded to pluck a lily from the grass. Jemma began to protest, but stopped once Fitz placed the lily delicately in her hair. 

“You really shouldn’t have done that, you know.” Jemma chastised him. But she was grinning, Fitz noticed, so he figured he was off the hook. 

“I wanted...” Jemma begins to speak, dragging Fitz willingly back into the here and now. “I wanted to thank you.” She says, and when she offers no further explanation, Fitz nods. He knows what she means, and there is no need for her to explain further. She wants to thank him. That is, in complete honesty, all that he needs to know. 

Fitz walks over to the table and pulls a chair out. “Here,” he says and motions for her to sit down. Jemma bites the inside of her cheek.

“I was supposed to do that for you.” She takes a seat nonetheless. “I made chicken,” she informs him once he is seated as well. “With that sauce you like. And there are also little sandwiches.” She stops and smiles. “I’m sure that you can guess what kind.” Fitz nods, grinning even wider than he thought ever to be possible. 

“My favorite.” Jemma removes the foil from each of their plates. 

“Yes.” 

Stating that the sandwiches are his favorite is not entirely true, he notes silently. His favorite is the way her hair develops a delicate shine in the light. How her lips form perfect pictures while speaking, moving as if they were built for grace. His favorite thing is her laugh. When her nose crinkles and her eyes brighten like the sun, warm with a profound radiance. 

His favorite is her. 

He doesn’t say this, however. Instead he smiles at her, a smile full of admiration and love. She smiles back, then points at his full plate. It’s just then that he notices her half-empty one. “Do you want to eat?” She questions him, and he can sense the teasing nature in her tone. 

“Yeah.” Fitz picks up his fork, his eyes never leaving hers. “I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> ~ thank you for reading! leave a comment maybe if you liked it, or thought that it could have been better?


End file.
